<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>what you thought you knew by my_bated_breath</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26591863">what you thought you knew</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_bated_breath/pseuds/my_bated_breath'>my_bated_breath</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: The Last Airbender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Borderline crack, F/M, Fluff, Post-Canon, sokka ships it too but he's more confused than anything else, that's it that's the whole fic, the author attempts to summon her sense of humor from where it disappeared into the void years ago, the whole ATLA universe ships zutara</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 02:33:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26591863</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_bated_breath/pseuds/my_bated_breath</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sokka thought he understood Zuko and Katara's feelings better than they did.</p><p>(spoiler: he did not)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Katara/Zuko (Avatar)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>170</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Zutara Fluff Exchange</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>what you thought you knew</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seethedawn/gifts">Seethedawn</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for a Zutara fluff drabble exchange</p><p>Seethedawn: This may not have been what you were expecting or hoping for, but in a way it's still canon compliant? Either way, I hope you enjoy it :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Through the red haze of his vision, through Sozin’s comet and Fire Nation blood, he awakes to the ocean in her eyes. He’s alive. </em> She’s <em> alive. </em></p><p>
  <em> “Thank you, Katara,” he murmurs. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Katara’s stare is open, trembling with relief and doubts and tears. For a moment her mouth falls open, forming around “I can’t believe you did that” or “I could’ve lost you” or “I think I’m the one who should be thanking you” — but then her lips are parted in a different way, drawing close, closer, closest. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Zuko,” she breathes out before she kisses him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He is shocked by lightning again but his hands are moving on their own, one clasping onto her waist and another buried in her hair. With a gentle pull, he tilts her head to fit the slant of his lips against hers more naturally, so that he can consume her and she with him- </em>
</p><p>“Stop! Sokka, please, by all the forsaken spirits just <em> stop </em>.”</p><p>“What was that?” Sokka asked from where he leaned against the Fire Lord’s office door. Clearing his throat, he unrolled more of the scroll. “As I was saying, <em> he feels as though he’s drowning in her </em>-”</p><p>Zuko groaned, dropping his head onto his desk. Even with his face covered, Sokka could feel the blush radiating off him, pink burning on the tip of his ears. He could only imagine how red his face was.</p><p>In an act of mercy, Sokka lowered the scroll. He’d never seen Zuko so embarrassed before — no, embarrassed, wasn’t the right word. Zuko was outright mortified. It almost felt reprehensible.</p><p>So naturally, his response was to tease him even more.</p><p>“What, can’t the Fire Lord handle a little <em> heat </em> to his romance?”</p><p>A glower. “You’re awful. Completely, wholly awful.”</p><p>Sokka shrugged. “Don’t blame me. I’m not the one who wrote this. Actually,” he gestured towards the window, “your own citizens wrote this, among other… works of fiction. So you should be thanking me — better you first learn about it from me than from someone else.”</p><p>Zuko was so thankful. In fact, he was so thankful that he shot up from his desk, toppled his chair, and stomped out of the room. And maybe along the way he set the scroll on fire.</p><p>Sighing, Sokka wondered why no one ever appreciated him. Then he set about cleaning up the black ashes at his feet.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em> They make for a wonderful picture, the two of them. They are both dressed in their respective nation’s colors, she in azure furs and he in crimson robes, the softest smile dawning on their lips. It’s fondness in their eyes, but beyond that is love- </em>
</p><p>“Mhm,” Katara said noncommittally, distracted while guiding her brush on the page. “Is there anything you need, Sokka?”</p><p>Flabbergasted, Sokka whipped his head between the painting in his hands and his completely indifferent sister.</p><p>“You- you weren’t even listening to me! You weren’t even looking at the painting!”</p><p>“Oh.” Katara glanced up, eyes landing on the rendition of her and Zuko gazing at each other lovingly. Her expression didn’t change. “I already saw this.”</p><p>“You-” Once again, Sokka was at a loss for words. Where was the shyness? Where was the blushing? Zuko would’ve acted out an entire show in his discomfiture, he thought mournfully.</p><p>Seeing that he had nothing left to say, Katara went back to penning her letter. But Sokka could not let this go.</p><p>“<em> Oh </em> — is that all you have to say? Aren’t you embarrassed? Aren’t you… <em> anything </em>?”</p><p>“Hm.” Another monosyllabic answer, yet somehow its tone was alarming. And when Katara looked up again, revealing a mischievous glint to his eye, Sokka realized why.</p><p>“If you think that’s embarrassing-” Katara started slowly. “-then you should see what I write to Zuko.”</p><p>A beat.</p><p>Then chaos.</p><p>Crash— “Let me see the letter!”</p><p>Clang— “No way!”</p><p>It was hours later, with a hundred tears in his shirt and a thousand scrapes on his arms that Sokka found himself grasping the coveted letter. With shaking hands, he unfolded it.</p><p>
  <em> Dear dad- </em>
</p><p>...</p><p>Wait.</p><p>Dear <em> dad </em>?</p><p>Sokka tore the page to pieces.</p>
<hr/><p>All he wanted was to see Zuko and Katara flustered, to see them stumble over themselves like all shy couples do before they inevitably admit their feelings for each other. Only now he could barely force Zuko to pay attention to those romance scrolls and paintings for more than a second, and when he did, he was apathetic — amused, even.</p><p>Still, he was nothing compared to Katara with her bold remarks and sly smiles, with how nonchalantly she considered engaging her lips with his in extended contact in thorough, <em> excruciating </em>detail, among other… subjects.</p><p>Couples-to-be didn’t act this way, did they? Or was he seeing something where there wasn’t anything? Spirits, what if he was <em> wrong </em>?</p><p>So this was his final test <em> — </em>the Ba Sing Se troupe had poignant playwrights, talented actors, exceptional effects—</p><p>“I don’t know if I’ll live to see tomorrow, Katara, but I know… I know that I love you.”</p><p>—and they were notorious “Zutara shippers,” whatever that meant.</p><p>“Zuko,” stage-Katara murmured. “I love you too.”</p><p>Sokka’s brows furrowed in grim determination as the two actors drew forward, eyes fluttering shut. This would determine everything. If words and pictures failed to move them, then surely a story that has come to life could be the only means to elicit a reaction from them, an unveiling of the truth. He turned around to the seat behind him, bracing himself-</p><p>For nothing.</p><p>Their seats were empty.</p><p>Sokka gaped, and before he knew it, his legs were rushing beneath him, pushing him past the theater doors into the open summer air. And he heard it, among the whistling grass and distant chatter — a gasp, a hum, a name.</p><p>He bursted into the shadowed corner they were ensconced in. They looked at him, wide-eyed, barely broken apart seconds ago. Katara’s cheeks were flushed, Zuko’s hair had fallen out of his top-knot, and both their lips were swollen.</p><p>Sokka stared.</p><p>“Wha-”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope this ending comes off as funny rather than abrupt (lack of inspiration strikes again oops), but even more I hope this brought a smile to your face.</p><p>Thank you everyone for reading! (and thank you to Seethedawn for accepting this gift, whether you want it or not...)</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>